


If You Love Me For Me

by TwilaFrost



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Identity Swap, King Sakusa Kiyoomi, M/M, Miya Osamu and Miya Atsumu Are Not Related, Pauper Miya Atsumu, Prince Miya Osamu, Soldier Suna Rintarou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28421877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilaFrost/pseuds/TwilaFrost
Summary: The Kingdom of Inarizaki has fallen on hard times and the Royal Treasury is out of funds. This causes an arranged marriage between Prince Osamu and the king of the wealthy Kingdom of Itachiyama. Unsatisfied with never being able to choose for himself, he sneaks out of the palace. In town, he runs into a young man who looks just like him.Miya Atsumu is a poor baker's son. He does everything he can to support his family. However, he longs to be able to play music and travel to far off places. The best he can do for now is listen to his friend's stories. However, when he meets a stranger, an idea forms.---Or The Prince and the Pauper AU
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 133
Kudos: 367





	1. The Prince and the Pauper

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the fic inspired by my crazy shower thoughts. I hope you enjoy what is about to be a wild ride with these two not twins. This first chapter is just a short introduction to the world and some of our characters. Hope you enjoy!

Rice? Boiling. Salmon? In the oven. Nori? Cut. Ume-

“Prince Osamu!” 

Ah, shit. Osamu scrambles for a place to hide. Eyeing the pantry, he makes a mad dash for it. 

“Prince Osamu!” He hears his steward Aran yelling for him again. “Your Highness, please!” The man seems like he’s becoming frantic. 

Osamu stands stock still to not make any noise in the dark space as he waits for Aran to pass the kitchens. He just wants to cook and experiment with random recipes he makes up. Can’t he just do something for himself? Just because cooking isn’t part of a prince’s duties, he’s banned from the kitchens after one too many times “causing havoc.” Well, that and so he stops stealing food off the trays before dinner is served.

“Ah! Akaashi! Have you seen the Prince?”

Oh no. Not Akaashi. He’s doomed. Osamu silently pleads with the gods for his tutor to not use his freaky senses of _knowing_ things. It’s scary. 

He hears footsteps closing in on him before the pantry door opens. On the other side, Akaashi wears a blank face, and Aran looks absolutely done with his shit. Osamu gives them a very fake, sheepish smile.

Akaashi sighs, “How did I know this is where you’d be.” Because he’s a damn mind reader. He should be a prophet, not a tutor. 

Aran looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm. “Prince Osamu! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Your mother requests an audience with you.”

Osamu hangs his head back with a sigh. It’s always something. Aran has already moved on and is fussing over Osamu’s “mess” in the kitchen. It’s a very clean workplace, thank you very much. Guess he’s not going to be trying out that recipe after all. 

  
  
  


Knocking, Osamu enters his mother’s parlor. Queen Izumi sits in her favorite bergère chair nursing a cup of tea. The last few years have been hard. After the king passed due to illness and the sudden lack of funds in the Royal Treasury, the pressure has multiplied tenfold. She glances up at the entrance of her son. 

“Osamu, take a seat. There’s something I need to tell you.”

He doesn’t like the strained tone his mother is using. This conversation is going to be unpleasant. Racking his brain, Osamu tries to think about what could be so troublesome. Are they being invaded? Is the food supply gone? Is there another plague? 

He sits adjacent to his mother and waits for her to continue. “As you know, Inarizaki has been struggling financially for a while now. However, I have taken it upon myself to ease the burden of the people.” Osamu waits for the bomb to drop. “The King of Itachiyama is looking for a spouse.”

Oh. _Oh._ Osamu blinks at his mother a few times, trying to process what she’s insinuating. “Are you selling me off to some rich king in the adjacent country?”

Izumi furrows her brows and sets her tea on the coffee table. “Of course not, dear. It’s an arranged marriage. You’ll rule as king alongside him.”

“And if I refuse?” Osamu puffs up his chest.

“He and his royal party are already on their way.”

Osamu’s eyes widen in shock. How did all this happen right under his nose? “Do I not have any say in this?!”

His mother sighs, “It’s for the good of the kingdom. I’m sorry, dear.”

“Yes, I know. It’s my _duty_ ,” he bites out.

Osamu stands abruptly and bows to his mother, rather peeved, and exits. Everyone thinks that being royalty is all glitz and glam, but there’s not a single decision he gets to make for himself. All his hobbies are chosen for him, his wardrobe, his duties - there’s nothing for himself. No matter how hard he tries to break free of the mold, there’s always someone there to hold him back. 

In his chambers, he flings open his wardrobe to find a cloak. Osamu wants to get out of here. It’s stifling. He’s tired of always being the good Prince of Inarizaki. Sneaking out to help clear his head sounds like the perfect remedy. He finds a red cloak that’s a bit fancy, but it’s the best he can do. Now all Osamu has to do is sneak past the palace guards. 

Creeping along the corridor, he sees Bokuto. Perfect, just the guard he wanted to see. This ought to be easy. 

“Bokuto.”

The man straightens up and faces Osamu with a wide smile, “Good afternoon, Your Highness!” 

Osamu keeps a blank face as he addresses the guard. “I heard Akaashi was looking for you in the library.”

Akaashi?” His eyes take on the shape of hearts. “Thank you for telling me! Oh, I should probably tell Kuroo I’m leaving my post.”

Osamu waves him off, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

He’s barely finished his sentence before the man takes off. What a sucker. 

Osamu peeks left and right to make sure no one else is around. When he’s sure the coast is clear, he sneaks into the servant’s quarters. If he can just make it to the staff entrance, he’s scotfree. Thankfully it’s the middle of the day, so no one should be back here. 

Pushing open the door from the servant’s quarters that leads outside, Osamu frowns at the sight. Right. There’s a giant ass wall around the castle grounds. Not letting it deter him, Osamu runs across the grounds. Surely scaling a wall can’t be _that_ hard. 

  
  


It is that hard. Osamu is huffing and puffing by the time he’s able to finally reach the top. It’s amazing no one caught him in the times it took to get up here. Looking out beyond the palace walls, all he sees is freedom. Now he just has to get down...

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Atsumu wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of flour behind. It’s been slow today. Even slower than usual. Looking around his family’s bakery, it’s in sad shape. There are a few floorboards missing, and those supports look like they could give at any time. 

He’d fix it himself, but they can’t afford the materials. Everything they earn is put right back into ingredients. Business just isn’t great in the kingdom right now. No one can afford shit. It’s not only the Miya family that’s dirt poor. 

Hearing a horse’s gallop outside, there’s only one person it can be. Perking up, Atsumu rushes outside to see Suna Rintarou clad in his soldier’s uniform.

“Sunarin! Yer back!” He embraces his friend as soon as he dismounts. Suna was sent with a few other soldiers to investigate a potential group of bandits. Atsumu is glad he’s back in one piece. 

“Yeah, yeah. Good to see you too. Now get off.” He playfully shoves Atsumu away. “By the way, you have flour all over your face.”

“Ugh!” Atsumu wipes his hands on his apron before rubbing at his face. “Did I get it?”

Suna inspects him, “Nope. But I don’t think you’ll ever be able to get all the stupid off.”

Atsumu narrows his eyes at the brunette, “Those are fightin’ words! Ya wanna go, Sunarin?!”

Suna raises an eyebrow and shrugs. Turning back to his horse, he pulls out his sparring swords from the pack on the animal. It seems he came prepared, expecting a spar. Atsumu catches the wooden sword tossed to him and takes off his apron. Then they take their positions.

Atsumu would have signed up for the military, but he needs to help with the bakery. He can’t leave his dad here alone. The illness that swept the kingdom and killed the king took his mother too. His dad’s getting older now, and there’s no way he can do all of the work by himself. It’s hard work, but if he can ease the burden of his father, it’s worth it to Atsumu. 

He’s kept occupied after the bread is baked by doing odd jobs around town, and Suna helps him with his swordsmanship. One can never be too careful. It’s not the safest after dark. 

“C’mon, bring it!” Atsumu shouts with a manic grin.

Though it is Atsumu that makes the first move. Suna predicts this and easily side steps. “You are so predictable.”

This only provokes Atsumu into trying something completely new. Spinning towards Suna, he swings his sword in a slashing motion. He nails the man right in the back, and he lets out a pained _Oof_ as he stumbles forward. He was completely unprepared for that attack.

Atsumu reaches out to steady his friend. “Oh shit. I didn’t think that was actually gonna hit ya that hard.”

Suna’s deadpan look says he is highly unamused. “Well, now I need a drink to ease the pain.” 

He puts away their sparring gear and gathers his horse’s reins to lead her while they walk on foot to the tavern. Atsumu keeps pace at Suna’s side. If he’s lucky, he’ll get a chance to sing and play at the tavern today. Music is one of the only free things here. It helps keep everyone sane, and sometimes he gets tips. 

The tavern owners are some of the nicest people in town. It’s hard to be sullen in that place. And if there are any troublemakers, then Daichi tosses them out. He’s a scary man when angered. Just a glare sends shivers down Atsumu’s spine. Although, Sugawara isn’t to be trifled with either. 

  
  


Arriving at the tavern, Suna hitches his horse before they enter. For early evening it’s already lively. Kita sits at the bar conversing with Daichi, while Sugawara is entertaining some guys at a table. The grey-haired man smiles and waves at them as they walk in. The two men take a seat at the bar next to Kita. 

Daichi turns his attention to them, “Hey guys, what can I get ya?”

“Whatever you have on tap,” Suna grimaces as he stretches his shoulder.

Atsumu eyes the crowd. He might be able to make a few coins. “Uh, actually can I do my thing?”

Daichi chuckles, “Of course. You know where everything is.”

Atsumu smiles, jumping up from the stool. He grabs Sugawara’s lute from behind the bar and heads over to the side of the tavern to play. If Atsumu could do anything, he’d travel and play music. There have to be so many amazing things outside of this tiny farming town. A kingdom not too far from here has mountains! 

Suna tells him about some of what he’s seen. Lucky bastard has seen Aoba Johsai Forest and the valley that runs between here and Itachiyama. It must be mesmerizing to see. Apparently, it gets its name from all of the owls that nest there. 

However, all Atsumu can do is sing songs about these places. It’s enough for now at least. Maybe one day he’ll be able to travel. He and Suna can maybe go together. That’d be fun. Until they get irritated and suffocate the other in their sleep. 

  
  


A couple of hours later, Atsumu collects his few tips. This will help with their next trip further into the kingdom. Maybe they’ll actually get to eat something more than watered-down potato stew. Actually, if he hurries, Atsumu might be able to buy some eggs for tomorrow. 

He bids farewell to everyone and Suna who is indulging in what might be his third mug of ale. The brunette might not be feeling the pain anymore, but he’s sure going to feel it tomorrow morning. Atsumu thinks he’s just being a big baby and wanted to drink, though. 

Atsumu got a good deal on the last eggs for sale. Now he’s on his way back home with his basket of eggs. However, as he’s walking past a corner, someone barrels right into him. They both go tumbling to the ground. His eggs are smashed on the ground around them.

“What the fuck! Watch where yer goin’ ya-” Atsumu’s words die on the tip of his tongue as he looks at the stranger’s face. 

Before him is a young man who looks uncannily like him. The only difference Atsumu can discern is the man’s hair and eye color, and he looks a healthier weight as well. His hair is styled in an undercut and dyed grey on top and has steel-colored eyes. Meanwhile, Atsumu has shaggy natural dark brown hair and golden-brown eyes. And not to mention his sad state of being underfed. 

Both men stare at each other in wonder. Atsumu pokes the other’s cheek to make sure he isn’t hallucinating from hitting his head or something. The grey-haired man just watches. 

  
“Who _are_ you?” They ask in unison.


	2. Fate's Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osamu and Atsumu hash out a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter we're still setting up for the main plot. After this, we should really start getting into things. Hope you enjoy this chapter though!

Atsumu brings the strange man back to the bakery so they can talk. Now they’re staring each other down, waiting for someone to do something. Observing him, Atsumu can tell that he’s definitely from the upper class. That cloak alone is probably worth more than several month’s profits from the bakery. Plus, Atsumu would have definitely noticed him around.

“Alright. Who are ya?” Atsumu breaks the silence, not being able to stand it any longer.

“I’m Prince Osamu. Who are you?” 

Atsumu blanches.  _ Prince WHO now?  _ “There ain’t no way yer a prince! What’re ya doin’ down in these parts?”

“Prince Osamu” sighs, “You can’t answer a simple question, can you?” He digs around in his pocket and pulls out a ring, which he puts on before shoving his hand in Atsumu’s face.

Looking at the ring, he immediately recognizes the royal family crest.  _ Holy shit. _ Atsumu gapes at the man - Prince Osamu. 

“Your name?” He asks again. 

“Miya Atsumu. What’re ya doin’ here, Yer Highness?”

Osamu cringes. “Just call me Osamu. And I sneaked out.” 

“Why?”

So Osamu and Atsumu start asking each other questions, learning the basics first. They have the same birthday, but there’s no record of royal twins. They deduce they’re not related. Somehow. Osamu is being forced into an arranged marriage, which must suck. Atsumu tells him about the bakery and how shit the economy has been lately. Which if he’s getting married because of no funds in the kingdom, it makes a lot more sense. 

They tell each other about their lives, their wants, and desires. Atsumu regales him of how he wishes to sing and play music, traveling across the lands. Osamu is intrigued and says that he was meant to do those things but is completely tone-deaf, and his teacher gave up on him. He also complains about not having anything for himself, and Atsumu never really considered that’s how the life of a royal would be. The things he’s describing honestly don’t sound that terrible though. Learning about the world? That sounds exciting. 

“I just want some time for myself before I’m shipped off to Itachiyama,” he says, sighing. A moment of silence elapses between them before Osamu looks straight at Atsumu and appraises him. “Switch places with me.”

“Huh? Ya think I have time to play princeling? I haveta help with the bakery!”

“I’ll pay you,” Osamu takes out a pouch of coins.

Atsumu’s eyes widen.  _ Holy shit. _ He just carries that around with him?! There’s so much he could do with that. He could finally fix up this place. He and Pa wouldn’t have to worry about food for a while either. It’s a no-brainer. 

“What would I needta do?”

“The King of Itachiyama will be here in three days. We have until then to make you into a prince, so you can entertain him until the wedding.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” If all he has to do is keep some dude company for a while, it sounds like a sweet deal. Everyone loves Atsumu, he’ll charm the socks off this guy and everything will be happily ever after. 

They make plans to meet up again tomorrow. 

  
  


Atsumu goes to bed that night thinking that this whole thing must be some big fever dream. Meeting the Prince of Inarizaki and he looks just like him? Preposterous. 

  
  
  


Not as preposterous as one may think apparently because there Osamu stands at their designated meeting spot. It’s a good thing Atsumu doesn’t have anything to do today because Osamu drags him off somewhere when he arrives. Though he probably should have checked on Suna… 

Atsumu does a double-take when he realizes he’s being led to the palace. Osamu throws a cloak at him to cover his head as they sneak inside. When the door closes to the prince’s chambers, Osamu turns to him.

“Alright. Let’s get started. First thing’s first, you need to lose the accent.”

“What?!”

And thus begins his training.

  
  


“Your penmanship is atrocious,” Osamu says looking over his shoulder.

“Ya should be happy I know how to read and write at all!”

Osamu smacks the back of his head. “Accent.”

“Fuck!”

Osamu is an unforgiving teacher, but Atsumu is the same. They’ve made a game out of punishing the other for messing up on their respective speaking patterns. It’s surprisingly effective. 

Osamu leaves Atsumu in his chambers to study while he performs his duties. Honestly, it’s not  _ that _ bad. Sure, there is a lot he doesn’t really understand, but he gets the gist of it. Besides, Atsumu finds it interesting. He didn’t know that Inarizaki used to be one of the biggest rice traders in the area. What happened?

The amount of bullshit he has to learn is ridiculous. Does what utensil he uses to eat really matter that much? And the fucking bows. Learning the names of those important. Atsumu is nothing but a perfectionist, but is he really going to be able to pull this off?

“Akaashi and Aran are the ones ya will haveta look out for. They’ll notice somethin’s up.” 

Atsumu turns to him. “What happens if they do find out?”

Osamu shrugs, “Dunno.”

Atsumu gives him a flat look. What a load of information he is. “Well, the only person that you’ll have to worry about is Sunarin. I think he’ll notice right away.”

“What should I do?”

“Whatever you want. Tell him the truth or don’t.” Atsumu doesn’t think Suna will care much as long as he comes back unharmed. He’ll probably get a kick out of it. “So tell me about this King of Itachiyama.”

“His name is King Kiyoomi of the Sakusa family. I honestly don’t know much ‘bout him. He’s a rather reclusive king. I’ve only heard that Itachiyama prospers since he took the throne.”

“You have any pictures? Like he’s not some old geezer, right?”

Osamu shrugs, “Wouldn’t know.”

Atsumu scrunches his face. Gross. For the sake of Osamu, he sincerely hopes he’s not. Plus, Atsumu doesn’t want to have to be in the company of some old perv leering at him. At best, he expects King Kiyoomi to be a middle-aged man with one of those stupid-looking beards. 

  
  
  


The next day, Atsumu teaches Osamu how to do the early morning prep work for the bakery. He’s actually decent at it, and he uses the grinder so easily. Some things in life just aren’t fair. Atsumu isn’t bitter at all. Not at the fact Osamu has bigger biceps than him or that he has to learn so much more about this royal stuff. Nope, not Atsumu. At least he’s getting paid. 

He only has to shove Osamu down under the counter once when Suna comes in to question where he disappeared to yesterday. Suna definitely doesn’t buy his excuse, but he isn’t bothered enough to pry either. 

Then it’s back to more prince training. He’s managed to copy Osamu’s signature to the exact quill stroke. And he’s pretty sure he can name everyone in the palace. The stupid dining etiquette still eludes him though. Seriously, just use chopsticks! There’s no need for all these different forks and spoons!

Prince Osamu claims to dislike sword fighting but when the two of them spar, he seems pretty into it. Maybe he just doesn’t want to lose to a commoner. So it’s pretty satisfying when Atsumu is able to disarm him. However, Osamu wipes the smirk off his face when he lunges at him to grapple on the ground. Why is this princeling so strong?!

  
  
  


On the final day, Osamu brings Atsumu to the palace once again for the finishing touches.

“We needta dye our hair,” Osamu says, setting down some weird supplies Atsumu has never seen before. He obviously can’t afford to spend money on hair products. “And yer in dire need of a haircut.”

Atsumu scrunches his nose, “Can I at least choose a different color than grey?”

“I guess. As long as it’s not somethin’ stupid.”

Atsumu thinks for a moment. If he could have any color hair, what would it be? Then he smiles thinking of his mother’s beautiful, long, blonde hair. How the light would catch it just right, giving it this gleaming shine. He misses her.

“Blonde.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Osamu and Atsumu stand side by side looking in the mirror. Honestly, he likes this natural look better. Why the council thinks he needs to dye his hair for “status” is beyond him. Atsumu looks extremely pleased with his own new hair. Osamu managed to give him an undercut without screwing it up. And he has to say that the style and color suit him. 

Next is just a matter of switching clothes. Atsumu is thinner and less bulky than himself. Osamu dreads to think how many times he’s had to go without food. He wouldn’t be able to survive that. 

Once they switch, the size difference is more apparent. The shirt is snug against Osamu’s shoulders and chest, and Atsumu’s hangs loose. The chambermaids and royal tailor are going to throw a fit tomorrow. Good thing he won’t be here. 

“Alright, so the weddin’s in two weeks. I’ll meet ya right in here the day before the ceremony,” Osamu says.

“Alright. Just don’t blame me if this whole thing goes down in flames.”

“Just try not to do anythin’ stupid.”

“Alright, ‘Samu,” Atsumu says, rolling his eyes.

“‘Samu?”

“It’s my nickname for ya,” he gives a cheeky smile.

“Alright then, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu smirks back. 

Osamu is sure to remind Atsumu to use the messenger crows to send him letters. That’s how they’re going to stay in touch with each other. That way if anything drastic happens, they can notify the other. Plus, it’s good to stay up-to-date. Osamu isn’t a  _ complete _ slacker.

They give each other a hug before they part ways. It’s strange. Osamu is an only child, so he doesn’t know what a sibling bond is like, but somehow he feels that Atsumu is like a brother. Over the past few days, they’ve managed to get surprisingly close. It’s a shame that after all this is over they probably will never see each other again.

  
  
  


Climbing over the palace walls this time is freeing. He’s no longer Prince Osamu, he’s Miya Atsumu. Yes, he still has responsibilities, but he has  _ choices _ . No more of those stuffy clothes, or pointy shoes, or lessons, or council meetings! He’s free! A joyous laugh breaks from his mouth and rings in the night air. Osamu is going to make the most of the time he’s been granted.

Arriving back at the bakery there’s a figure standing out in front of it. It’s dark, so he can’t make out any features other than the person is definitely male. Atsumu was only able to tell him vague descriptions of the people he would need to know, and this could be anyone. Even when he gets closer, he can only see that the man is a little taller than him and has dark shaggy hair. 

Wracking his brain, he tries to think if that fits anyone Atsumu mentioned. Suna Rintarou maybe? He’s the one who came in the bakery yesterday. Osamu didn’t see him, but he heard his voice. Hopefully, he can recognize it.

“So you finally decided to show,” the man says in a bored tone. Ah, shit. Fuck. What does he say to that? Osamu shrugs at the man who raises an eyebrow. “Have nothing to say for yourself? We were supposed to go riding today.”

“Uh, it musta slipped my mind.”

The man walks forward until he’s right in front of Osamu, and holy shit. Atsumu never said Suna Rintarou was hot! Because this is definitely Suna Rintarou with those eyes. They’re just as Atsumu described them. 

“You love riding. And you wanted to show me your so-called improved archery skills.” Suna narrows his eyes at him. “Why do you look so surprised?”

Osamu tries to return his face to a neutral state. “What is this, an interrogation?”

Suna steps closer again and curls his pointer finger under Osamu’s chin, placing his thumb in front to angle his head up. Under the moonlight, Osamu can see Suna’s hazel, foxlike eyes clearly. His heart hammers in his chest as those eyes analyze him.

“You’re not Atsumu,” he states, still holding Osamu’s chin. “Sure look like him though.”

Osamu feels a slight panic. “What d’ya mean, Sunarin?”

Suna almost looks amused. “Well for one, your voice was a dead giveaway.” Osamu takes a step back, but Suna follows. “Two, your facial expressions.” Another step back. “Three, your eyes.” He’s backed up against the side of the bakery now. “So who are you?”

Osamu isn’t used to being challenged like this. Usually what he says goes. No one questions his authority. Except for that damn council, and they’re all bark and not bite. Suna, on the other hand, is intimidating. He’s tall and broad. But it’s the eyes. They’re as terrifying as they are mesmerizing. 

He didn’t think he’d be found out this quickly. Atsumu said Suna’s sharp, but this is something else. It looks like he’ll have to tell the truth. Damn. It hasn’t even been a few hours. 

“Okay, okay. Fine. Just lemme explain.”

Suna steps back only slightly and waits expectantly. So Osamu tells him. Suna’s expression doesn’t change much through the story, only granting eyebrow raises and slight smirks. Osamu can’t help but want to see what other expressions he can make. What would he look like laughing?

“Wow. The idiot really got himself into something this time,” Suna says, giving Osamu more personal space. “I don’t think anyone else here will notice though. I’ve known Atsumu my entire life. We grew up together.”

Osamu nods and sighs in relief. “So ya won’t say anythin’, right?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Nope. I wanna see this play out.”

Alright. Cool. So he has an ally. A really attractive ally. That’s good. Really good.  _ Get it together, Osamu. _

If it was so easy to tell that he’s not Atsumu, he worries how easy it will be to tell that Atsumu isn’t Osamu. What will happen if he’s caught? That… could be bad. Atsumu isn’t stupid though. He proved to be surprisingly competent, which is obviously a good thing. 

He’ll have to send Atsumu a letter first thing in the morning about Suna knowing. Osamu looks over to Suna, who’s leaning against the building. He’s interesting. While he exudes this “I don’t’ give a fuck” attitude, he is certainly very aware of his surroundings. He’s also Atsumu’s best friend. In the two weeks he has, he hopes he gets to know more about Suna Rintarou.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @TwilaWrites on Twitter


	3. The King of Itachiyama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Kiyoomi finally arrives to Inarizaki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's been a while, sorry about that! This chapter is Atsumu's first day as a prince. We shall see how that goes. Hope you enjoy!

Atsumu rises with the sun as usual, only this time he’s laying in a large comfortable bed with an ungodly amount of pillows. The soft fabric bunches around his body, and he snuggles into it more, releasing a content sigh. It’s strange to have nothing he needs to do. By this time, he’d usually be starting his prep for the day at the bakery. Now he can just lay here as long as he wants, but he’s restless.

Osamu said someone will come to get him to get ready in the mornings. So what’s he supposed to do while he waits? He doesn’t know the layout of the palace at all. It’s not like he and Osamu could go traipsing around together, so that’s a no. Somehow he feels wholly unprepared. Sure, he’s done the rushed lessons and training for this, but in reality, Atsumu has no idea what to expect.

Crossing his arms behind his head, he thinks about what today might be like. He’s going to meet the King of Itachiyama. Itachiyama is in the mountains, so it’s probably cold. Are these guys going to be wearing big fur pelts? Are they big burly men to cope with the cold? He’s got the image of vikings in his head. Atsumu isn’t sure how to feel about what his mind has conjured up. 

What would it be like to wake up every day and see mountains from his window? Inarizaki is all fields and plains. It’s beautiful in its own right, but mountains sound so majestic. The sun would gleam down, reflecting off of the snow and paint a picture worthy of a song. Closing his eyes, he hums a melody of his own creation. 

His daydreaming is interrupted by tapping on his window. Getting up, he makes his way to open it. A crow with a letter attached to its leg hops in. A letter already? He unties it, and the crow looks at him expectantly. Right. He goes over to the desk and pours some birdseed in his hand for the crow, laying it down in front of it.

Opening the letter, he huffs out a laugh. Of course Suna found out already. He’s not even surprised. He tries to imagine how that interaction went down. Did Suna point a sword at him? Intimidate him? Nonchalantly ask? Any of them are valid scenarios. Atsumu wonders how big of a kick he’s getting out of this. At least Osamu has someone he can be himself around. However, Atsumu has no intention of letting anyone find out his true identity. This is a job, and he’s going to do it well.

  
  


There’s a sharp rap on the door before four people enter. Jesus. 

“Prince Osamu, it’s time to wake- Oh, you’re already up. That’s unusual.” The man, who he quickly identifies as Ojirou Aran, says. 

“Forget that. What have you done to your hair?!” The blonde man rushes up to Atsumu, inspecting the bleach job. 

“I felt like a change,” Atsumu says to who is most definitely Terushima Yuuji. 

“Why didn’t you let me do it?! I’ve been trying to get you to change it for months!” he whines. Atsumu shrugs. “I’ll do a few touch ups, after you bathe.”

He’s ushered into the bathroom where a chambermaid is filling the bath. Another one starts undressing him. Jesus. Can’t he just do this himself? He tries not to feel completely exposed as he’s stripped bare. No one bats an eye though. 

Aran starts running down the schedule for the day as he steps into the bath. He’s not even allowed to wash himself. Osamu had told him about not having anything for himself, but this is a bit excessive. It’s all a bit overwhelming. Atsumu isn’t sure he’s heard anything Aran has said. 

“The King is expected to arrive in the early afternoon. And please, _please_ be on your best behavior. No running off or hiding in the kitchens. It’s important that you make a good first impression. He can still call off the engagement you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it,” Atsumu says as someone scrubs his head a bit too hard. 

  
  


After the bath, he’s roughly dried off with a towel and led back into the bedroom. He’s still naked. Terushima opens the wardrobe to reveal what is presumably his outfit for today. And it’s… oh lord. It’s awful. He has no words. 

Now Atsumu obviously doesn’t have the luxury of having several outfits to choose from nor does he have anything that one may deem fashionable. However, he is friends with the tailor and hangs around his shop often to admire the beautiful fabrics. Atsumu even helps on occasion as an odd job, so he knows fashion to an extent. And this? This is hideous. He also can immediately tell that Asahi made this. Atsumu bets he cried. 

It’s red with gold accents, which in itself is a nice color, but the way the doublet is meant to end right at the waistband of those pants. The _pants!_ Oh now Atsumu wants to cry. Do royals really think those puffy things look good? And those pointy ass leather shoes. No! And the _hat_. No, no, no! Who ordered this to be made? Surely Osamu didn’t. Whoever did needs to be let go immediately. 

He’s manhandled into some black leggings, which actually aren’t that bad. However, when the pants and doublet go on… 

“What is this?!” Terushima says, tugging at the loose clothing. “I took these measurements precisely! Did you shrink?” He feels up Atsumu’s body. “Why are you so thin?” 

Aran sends Atsumu a worried look. “Are you feeling sick? You’re still eating, right? You love to eat. Is something wrong?”

He really hates to do this but… “I’m fine. Maybe there was just a mix up at the tailor’s with the measurements.”

Terushima pulls at his hair, stressed. “What are we going to do?! There’s nothing that will fit you, and there’s not enough time to make another. You can’t meet the King looking like this!”

Everyone around him is panicking for really no reason. This is an easy fix, right? He looks down at himself to assess what he can do. He has an idea but…

“Look, I can fix this. I just need you to clear my schedule until the King arrives and bring me sewing supplies,” Atsumu says. He hopes it sounds authoritative enough.

Terushima looks at him skeptically. “With all due respect, Your Highness, what can you do to fix it?”

Atsumu straightens up and quirks an eyebrow. “Do you not trust me?”

“No, no! That’s not what I’m saying at all! I’ll get you what you need!” Terushima and the chambermaids exit promptly. 

Aran is eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re in a mood today, and I don’t like it. I’ll clear your schedule, but _please_ actually fix this.” Then he too is gone.

Atsumu can do this. It just needs a few… adjustments. First of all, the pants are a no go. He takes them off and tosses them on the bed. So are the shoes, he shucks them off. He eyes the hat and cloak still hanging in the wardrobe. Yeah, neither of those are happening either. 

Looking at himself in the mirror, he pulls the doublet further down. That could work, but the sleeves are just as awful as the pants. They will have to go too. Sighing, he looks around the room and decides to scavenge through all of Osamu’s drawers to find something useful. Hopefully he has enough time. 

Terushima brings him the supplies he asks for and offers to assist him, which he’s grateful for. He seems pretty into it (and appalled) when Atsumu starts tearing apart clothing after silently apologizing to Asahi. 

He’s decided to just scrap the whole thing. Remembering that Itachiyama’s colors are black and gold, Atsumu decides to make a bold move and wear those colors for their initial meeting. Thankfully, he thinks he has just what he needs.

  
  
  


“What do you think, Teru?” he asks.

“You look very dashing, Your Highness! This is definitely my favorite outfit I’ve seen you in,” he smiles at him.

Atsumu checks himself over in the mirror. He thinks the doublet turned out well, can’t even tell it’s made from three different ones pieced together. It’s of course black with gold accents. The material has an embellished design and the front has to be laced together using the gold knobs that line either side. Terushima had to do it for him, it’s pretty tight. Then he has a dark mauve undershirt, black leather pants, and boots. No hat or cape in sight. With the hairstyle Terushima gave him, it really completes the look.

There’s a knock on the door before he hears Aran’s voice. “Prince Osamu, the King’s party has been spotted! Are you ready?”

Atsumu opens the door and sees Aran’s face flash in surprise. “Yep! Lead the way!”

Aran eyes him briefly as he follows him to wherever they’ll be receiving the Itachiyama party. “It’s different than your usual attire.”

“Does it look bad?”

“Surprisingly, no. It is bold, however. Let us hope you’ve made a good choice.”

He’ll take it. Asahi would be proud of him. Looking in the mirror, Atsumu had hardly recognized himself. His new bleach blonde hair is styled artfully to the right, and his pristine clothes fit him almost like a second skin. All the golden accents bring out his eyes, and he’d say he looks rather striking. This King better be impressed. 

He stands in the throne room next to the Queen, who coos over him about how handsome he looks. Atsumu can’t help but enjoy the attention. He misses his mother dearly. The Queen kind of reminds him of her. 

The throne room doors open as the party is announced. A tall man with black curly hair enters first. He wears a black tunic with a beautiful gold embroidered design on the chest with black pants and boots. His black cloak is long and just barely grazes the floor. The golden material on the inside catches in the light. 

Is… is this the King of Itachiyama? Because holy shit. Osamu is a fucking lucky bastard. He’s tall and broad and exudes power. The man eyes Atsumu up and down, appraising him. 

Six other men follow him in. Jesus. Well, he supposes this is a king. He’d need a lot of protection in case anything happened on the journey here. 

“King Kiyoomi, welcome to Inarizaki. I hope your journey was pleasant.” The Queen greets.

“Thank you for receiving me. It was enjoyable.”

Queen Izumi motions for Atsumu to come to her. “May I present my son, Prince Osamu.”

Atsumu takes this as his cue and bows to King Kiyoomi. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.” 

The King looks at him with a blank expression. “Quite.”

Atsumu frowns but immediately schools his face. Alright, so he’s an asshole. Of course there has to be a fatal flaw. No one can be that attractive and hold a position of power without one. This is going to be a long two weeks. At least he’s nice to look at.

  
  
  


He and King Kiyoomi are left alone in a parlor room to “get acquainted.” However, Atsumu is more distracted by everything the room contains. There’s a huge fireplace, bookshelves filled with books and other trinkets, and then on the other side of the room sits a piano. 

Atsumu has never played one. They are far too expensive and fancy for where he’s from. However, his mother said that they have the most beautiful sound. He wants to try it but not with the grump here. 

King Kiyoomi sits on one of the couches sipping his tea, completely ignoring Atsumu. Wasn’t he the one who agreed to this wedding? He acts like he couldn’t give two shits about it. 

Atsumu huffs. He’s going to get something out of this guy. “You don’t seem very enthused about this arrangement.”

King Kiyoomi glances at him briefly. “You aren’t the first one I’ve agreed to meet. However, the council insists that I need a spouse. Something about balancing me out.”

Atsumu raises an eyebrow. So either he has called off previous engagements or had the others break it off? Interesting.”So you’re not even going to put in any effort?”

“I’m here aren’t I?”

This guy- “That’s not putting in any work! Do you even know the meaning?”

Atsumu wants to punch the smug look off of his face. “Oh, and you do? The pampered little Prince of Inarizaki? You don’t even look like you can hold a sword, let alone a political conversation. It takes more than a pretty boy to impress me.”

Atsumu glares and his eye twitches. How dare he judge him - or Osamu like that! He doesn’t know anything! Atsumu would gladly beat his ass in a duel. 

“This is why yer still single! Ya judge people before ya even give ‘em a chance. Ya don’t know me. I bet they want ya to marry so that someone else can talk to people ‘cause ya got no people skills. I’ll figure out this issue myself so I won’t even need to marry someone like ya!”

Through his anger and heavy breaths, Atsumu realizes what he’s just done. He just yelled at a _king_ . In his accent no less. _Oh shit._ He looks up to see King Kiyoomi giving him a look that almost seems amused. Not knowing what else to do, he says, “Enjoy yer stay, Yer Majesty,” in a sarcastic tone before bowing mockingly. He turns on his heel and leaves. 

  
  


Atsumu power walks down the hall, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. _Oh shit, oh shit._ He has no idea where he’s going. He needs to get back to his chambers and write Osamu to tell him that he maybe - probably - just really fucked up. 

In his panic, he’s not paying much attention to his surroundings and runs into someone. The person steadies him with a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, it’s an attractive man with styled brown hair and warm eyes.

“Careful there, Prince Osamu!” It’s Oikawa Tooru, the Royal Advisor. He steps back and evaluates Atsumu. “My, don’t you look handsome. A lot of things sure have happened while I was away. I mean, just look at you! New hair, new clothes - almost like a whole new person!”

Oikawa smiles brightly at him, though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Atsumu laughs, hoping it doesn’t sound as awkward as he feels. “I just thought I’d try something new.”

“I think it suits you. I’m on my way to speak with your mother. Actually, you should come too. Walk with me, My Prince.” He holds his arm out for Atsumu to loop his arm through, so he does. At least he won’t be lost anymore.

  
  
  


When he’s finally back in his chambers that night, Atsumu is mentally drained. He was dragged all over the place today. At least he knows the layout a bit better and didn’t have to spend more time than just dinner with the King.

He kept glancing at Atsumu, and it’s really making him nervous. Does he suspect something? Maybe he’s just thinking about how to execute him for the back talk. That might be better than being found out. Yeah.

Atsumu writes Osamu a letter about the day’s events, sending it by crow. It’s dark out now, so there’s probably no one loitering around the palace. Maybe he can go mess with the piano. First, though, he wants to change out of his fancy clothes, but he quickly realizes he can’t get the doublet off himself. With a sigh, he gives up and tries to find his way back to the parlor.

Reaching the room, it’s dark inside. Atsumu feels his way over to the fireplace Using the kindling and a match, he lights it so he can see. Going up to the Grand Piano, he can see all the intricate details. It’s made of mahogany and has beautiful inlays of foxes on the sides and lid. The legs are carved in an ornate fashion. 

Sitting on the bench, he glides his fingers over the keys without pressing them down, just taking it all in. Then he presses a single white key, letting the note ring out. Experimentally, he tests them out, trying to correlate them with what he knows from the lute.

Atsumu knows it’s played with two hands, but getting them to move in completely different motions at the same time is hard. It’s frustrating, but the sound is beautiful just like his mother said. 

When he gets a progression he likes, Atsumu starts on a melody. It’s very clunky, but Atsumu manages with intense concentration. Slowly, it smoothes out a bit as he repeats the part over and over. 

“I don’t recognize that one,” comes a deep voice. Atsumu jolts in surprise, hitting a few stray keys. He turns around with a rapidly beating heart to see King Kiyoomi leaning against the wall with his shoulder. He chuckles and pushes off the wall, walking closer. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Atsumu isn’t sure what to say. He did not expect this. Did he just laugh? “It’s fine.”

“I was told that you didn’t have a lick of musical talent. So who’s lying?” he smirks.

“Uh, well… I don’t know how to play piano.”

“Oh? Then what were you just playing?”

“I don’t know.” Kiyoomi raises an eyebrow. “No, really, I don’t. I just… made it up.”

“Hm. May I?” he gestures to the piano bench. Atsumu nods and scoots over to make room. “Show me.”

So Atsumu does. Kiyoomi mimics him, and it sounds so much better when he plays it. Atsumu watches his fingers dance across the keys, then he turns his head to the right. Kiyoomi is so close their shoulders touch. The fireplace flickers in the background creating this halo of light around him. He looks so much softer than the cold, closed off man from earlier today. Maybe music brings him peace too.

Kiyoomi continues playing but turns to look at him. Atsumu blushes at being caught gawking at him, but his lips just tilt up slightly. “You were right earlier today. My cousin gave me a thorough talking to. But I’m going to try to put in effort, as you said.” 

“Well, it sure beats you being a prickly jerk.”

Kiyoomi laughs and asks, “Where’d your cute little accent go?” 

“M-my? Uh, it’s improper to speak that way,” he says, trying to recover from the way his heart jumped. _Cute?!_

“That’s a shame.” Is he being flirted with right now? Who is this guy?! Kiyoomi stops playing and turns his full upper body to face him. “Would you like to go riding tomorrow?”

“Throw in some archery and yer on!” Atsumu declares and throws in his _cute_ accent just to see what happens. The twitch of Kiyoomi’s lips is worth it. 

Kiyoomi stands and offers a hand, which he takes, to help him up as well. “After breakfast, then?” 

Atsumu nods and then remembers what he’s still wearing. He could… “Uh… King Kiyoomi, could ya help me with this? Teru tied it kinda tight and I can’t, uh…” he trails off awkwardly. 

Kiyoomi steps forward and tugs at the lacing on the doublet. “You can just call me Kiyoomi,” he says with his head tilted down, but his eyes peer through his bangs. 

Atsumu swallows thickly. “Okay. Ya can call me… A- Osamu.” Oh shit, he almost fucked up. Does he really want Kiyoomi to call him Atsumu that badly?

Kiyoomi steps back once it’s unlaced. “I’ll take my leave now.” He takes Atsumu’s hand and kisses the back of it. “Goodnight, Osamu.”

  
Atsumu watches him go, heart thundering in his chest. He brings the hand he kissed up to his chest and holds it there with his other hand. _Oh fuck._ This is really going to be a long two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu's doublet and Kiyoomi's outfit  
> 
> 
> Next chapter will be Osamu!
> 
> @TwilaWrites on Twitter


	4. The Baker's Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at what Osamu and Suna have been up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry I'm a bit late. Writer's block hit me hard this week. But here we are with a SunaOsa chapter!

There’s something therapeutic about the routine working at the bakery provides. It’s only been five days, but Osamu can say that he’s enjoyed every moment. Well, except for when he almost fell through the floorboards. 

He never truly comprehended how bad it really is in the places furthest from the palace. Seeing and living it, though, he’s appalled. How did it get this bad? Has it always been like this while he’s been living in ignorance?

If he hadn’t brought along some coin with him, there’s no way there’d be enough money for three meals a day. He’ll make sure Atsumu is paid a substantial amount. Maybe he can hire laborers to clean and fix the entire area. 

Then there’s the issue with the bread. The wheat quality is average at best. Inarizaki used to be the main source of farming produce in the area. What happened? Is there better quality being sold and this is just all the Miyas can afford?

  
  


The smell of freshly baked bread fills the bakery as Osamu opens the oven to take out the batch of loaves he made. The urge to bite into one makes his mouth water, but he restrains himself. Barely. 

He looks up when the door opens to see Suna. Osamu’s heart lurches in his chest. He hasn’t known Suna for long at all, but there’s just something about him that makes Osamu  _ feel.  _ Between the quick wit, sarcastic humor, the small quirk of his lips, and his relaxed attitude, Osamu is grasping for something to hold onto. And his  _ eyes. _ Every time Suna pins him with his unmovable expression, Osamu feels like he’s been hit by a carriage.

And see, Osamu  _ knows _ that he shouldn’t be feeling this way. He’s  _ engaged.  _ Soon to be married in a little over a week engaged. That’s… very unavailable. So unavailable that Osamu needs to smack himself and get his head on straight. Watching Suna make his way towards him holding a letter, he thinks,  _ When have I ever followed the rules without force though? _

“You have another letter from the Royal Pain in the Ass,” he says, laying it on the counter. 

Osamu wipes his hands on his apron before taking the letter. Time to see what Atsumu has to say today. He always has a lot to say. It always makes Osamu smile and shake his head. His “twin” is ridiculous.

  
  


_ ‘Samu, _

_ Omi and I went riding again today. He asked if I do dressage or cross-country. I said yes, and he asked me to show him some time. I have no idea what either of those things are. HELP. Also, he’s teaching me piano, so you need to learn piano. Okay and I also think that Akaashi is suspicious. He’s scary. Like how does he know? Is he a wizard? I think he’s a wizard.  _

Osamu chuckles, reading Atsumu’s ramblings. It goes on for several more lines. But then he thinks about all the trouble that’s being created for him when he goes back. Piano? Fuck that. And Omi? Osamu thinks Atsumu may be in a similar state of mind as himself. 

He looks up to see Suna watching him with those hazel eyes. 

_ Thump-thump. _

“Seems ‘Tsumu is bitin’ off a bit more than he can chew,” he says.

Suna hums in acknowledgment. “So nothing new then.” He leans his elbows on the counter, head resting on his fists. “Is that your last batch?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Atsumu usually goes to Kita’s farm to buy more wheat on Thursdays. Thought I’d take you there since I’m sure the idiot didn’t tell you.”

Ah. Now that he thinks about it, the supply was looking low earlier this morning. And no, Atsumu did not, in fact, tell him. Osamu is sure that he’d have royally fucked something up by now if Suna wasn’t here to help. Atsumu doesn’t have this luxury. Every day Osamu looks towards the palace to make sure it hasn’t gone up in flames due to some unforeseen circumstance. 

Osamu unties his apron, handing it to “his father,” as he comes over to man the bakery. Mr. Miya is a good man. He’s definitely seen better days, though, that seems to be the norm in these parts. 

“I’m gonna head out with Sunarin, Pa.” Mr. Miya waves them goodbye and to be careful. Once outside, Osamu gestures down the dirt road. “By all means, lead the way.”

Suna smirks briefly before turning to head out into the farming land of Inarizaki. 

  
  
  


Osamu hasn’t ever actually been this far out before. He’s lived a relatively sheltered life. He came of age right before the plague hit. Before that, there was no reason for him to make appearances in other kingdoms. No one below the age of twenty has much political power in other kingdoms, not even a royal. 

He’s honestly surprised it took another three years before marriage was put on the table. Betrothals often happen even before becoming of age. It allows the couple to get to know each other. He laughs internally at the thought. Yeah, that’s what these two weeks were supposed to be for. So much for that. 

There’s always the possibility of King Kiyoomi eventually figuring out that there was some kind of trickery involved because he and Atsumu are very different people. Osamu may be charismatic, but he doesn’t exude it without even opening his mouth like Atsumu does.

This is evident in the way people stop and greet him or wave just as he walks down the road with Suna. It’s interesting seeing these people showing respect, not because they have to, but because they want to. Osamu can always tell when people feel obligated to bow to him. There’s none of that here. 

  
  


Reaching the farming fields, Osamu is confused as to why there doesn’t seem to be much of any growing at all. Have the crops failed this year? Or is it something else? 

“Suna, how long has the harvest been this scarce?” 

“Since the plague hit.” 

That long? Why didn’t he know about this? Inarizaki is a farming kingdom. Is this why they have no funds? Who’s in charge of that again?

He’s deep in thought when Suna rests a hand on his shoulder to stop him from walking right past their destination. It’s a quaint home situated a ways off the path. The fields around it should be flourishing with crops, but it’s horrendously bare. There’s a man Osamu has seen in the day’s he’s been here and recognizes as Kita Shinsuke. He always greets Osamu pleasantly, but there’s something about him that makes Osamu never want to be on his bad side. 

Kita straightens up when he sees them approaching and waves. They’re led to a grain bin. It’s a lot bigger than Osamu would have ever imagined. How do they get it all in there?

“Ya want the usual amount?” Kita asks.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Osamu glances around and sees a rice field. The Miya’s don’t have any rice. But Osamu has money. That means he can finally try out his recipe! “Can I get a couple bags of rice too?” Kita gives him a questioning look but nods. 

  
  


Osamu easily throws the bags of rice on his shoulders and starts walking back to the bakery. Walking backward, he raises an eyebrow at Suna who is just standing there with the wheat, watching him. “Are ya comin’?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, catching up. “So what’s the rice for?”

Osamu smiles secretively. “You’ll see.”

He drags Suna to the market with him to buy all the right ingredients. Osamu is surprised but extremely pleased that Suna doesn’t seem bothered by their impromptu shopping trip. Atsumu told him that Suna is usually very melodramatic about walking all over town. But when Osamu says he’s never been to a market before, Suna only raises an eyebrow and ushers him out of the produce area and into where the crafts are.

It’s an entirely different world. People have small tables and displays of things they’ve  _ made.  _ And Osamu always knew that the luxuries in the palace came from somewhere, obviously, but seeing it here like this is amazing. 

Several of the vendors greet him, and Osamu wonders if it would be out of character to gawk at all the crafts up close. The leatherwork is impeccable, but what catches his eye is silver. 

He approaches the display featuring several engraved jewelry pieces. In the palace, usually everything is gold and adorned in jewels, and Osamu hates it. That’s why he never actually wears his royal seal ring like he should. However, these pieces are silver and lack any flashy gems. However, they’re no less stunning. 

Osamu looks up to the vendor with mossy colored hair. “Did ya engrave these yerself?”

The man huffs goodnaturedly. “Yes. You act like I wasn’t promoted last year. My technique has improved a lot.”

Osamu has no idea who this is, but he obviously knows Atsumu - everyone knows Atsumu. “I didn’t mean it like that. These are amazin’.”

He picks up a silver ring with a Celtic knot engraved in it. It’s unlike anything he has at home. Gold just isn’t his color. Too bad silver is not “royal enough” - whatever that means. 

Suna meanders over to see what he’s looking at. He leans over Osamu’s shoulder. Osamu can feel the warmth radiating off of Suna behind him. His heart makes another jitter, thumping away. 

“That one means eternity and love,” the man says, smiling at him. 

“It’s beautiful.” Osamu turns the ring in his fingers. He’d honestly buy it if that wouldn't be suspicious, but there’s no way Atsumu would be able to afford something like this. Also, he needs to make sure what he brought with him lasts another week. 

He offers the still unknown man a smile and sets the ring back down. Osamu steps away before he impulsively changes his mind, deciding to check out the leather that had intrigued him earlier. 

“Hey, Atsumu!” A short man with styled up hair and a blonde streak in the front says. “Has Suna said anything about those gauntlets I made?”

Thankfully, Osamu can recognize him easily because of his distinctive characteristics. “Hey, Noya! I don’t remember. He’s here with me though. Ask him yerself!”

He turns looking for Suna and doesn’t see him. Did he go to look at something else? He’ll find him eventually. Honestly, if Osamu didn’t want to go back and try this recipe so bad, he could probably spend the whole day here. 

Osamu is still talking to Nishinoya when Suna finds him again. He’s quickly accosted by the leatherworker, who demands a review of his work. Once he’s given a satisfactory answer, Suna turns to him. 

“Hey, you about ready to head back?” 

“Yeah. I wanna try somethin’ and yer gonna help.” Osamu’s basket of ingredients swings gently between them as they walk leisurely back to the bakery.

“I never signed up for that.”

“Ya have somethin’ better to do?” 

Suna hums, pretending to contemplate. “Well, I think the tavern is calling my name in the distance. ‘Oh, Rintarou, come back to me. I miss you,’” he says completely deadpan. 

Laughter punches out of Osamu at just the whole image. He doubles over with his eyes scrunched closed. Osamu isn’t sure the last time he really laughed, at least, not like this. The kind that’s felt in his stomach and leaves him breathless. 

Straightening up, he wipes a tear from his eye. Suna has a strange expression on his face. Osamu isn’t sure what to make of it, though something about it stirs his insides, awakening butterflies within. The silence between them doesn’t open like a chasm, instead it brings them closer, almost like an understanding. Osamu fears in his heart what this means. 

“Why are ya lookin’ at me like that?” he asks.

“Uh, you just have a nice laugh.”

Osamu’s cheeks burn, and he tries to hide behind his only free hand. “Hurry up so I can show ya how to make this.” Suna’s husky chuckle only serves to make that burn an inferno. 

  
  
  


The rice is done, the nori is cut, the umeboshi is divided, the tuna and salmon are ready, and now it all just needs to be put together. 

“Are you going to tell me what the hell we’re making?” 

“Onigiri.”

“Oni- what?”

Osamu sighs, leaning his hip on the counter. “Rice balls.”

Suna crinkles his nose and curls his lip. “Why?”

Osamu ignores him and packs together a salmon onigiri and shoves it towards Suna. He takes it and inspects the food tentatively. Then he shrugs and takes a bite out of it. As he chews his eyes widen.

“Holy shit! Osamu, this tastes amazing!”

It’s probably the most expression he’s seen on Suna thus far, and the enthusiastic praise makes heat rise in his cheeks. “Ya really think so?”

“Yeah. I bet people would actually buy this.”

They both pause and look at each other. Would they be able to sell more of this than the bread?

He teaches Suna how to shape the onigiri and together they use up the ingredients Osamu bought. He packs them up and they head back into town together to see if this might actually be a plausible income. 

Suna once again doesn’t complain and helps without being asked. He could just be doing this because Osamu isn’t from around here and he feels obligated, but Osamu doesn’t really believe that. He’d honestly like to think that they’re friends. 

And as Osamu watches Suna easily banter with the other town’s folk, he really wishes it could be more. 

They end up selling everything and make a profit. Osamu is a bit dumbfounded but proud at the same time. Several people asked if he’d be making more, and well, Osamu said yes. He likes this - where his food and cooking is appreciated and not frowned upon. 

  
  
  


Back at the bakery, Osamu is writing a letter to Atsumu to update him on the day’s events. Suna sits on the counter, even after Osamu told him to get off. 

“I’m honestly a little bummed we sold them all. I was going to try and convince you that I should have the leftovers,” Suna says.

Osamu looks up and smirks. “What if I told ya I set some aside before we left?”

“Then I’d say, you’re my favorite person.”

_ Thump-thump. _

He can’t just say things like that! 

Osamu finishes writing his letter before he dares look at Suna. He can feel the other’s eyes on him as he seals the letter for the crow tomorrow morning. Still avoiding eye contact, Osamu walks over to where he stored the onigiri earlier. 

“Here.” He offers Suna a small container of the salmon onigiri he liked best. 

“Yes!” Suna drags the word out as he takes the offerings. 

Osamu gives in and sits on the counter next to Suna, eating his own snack. He’s shoved the last bit of his onigiri into his mouth when Suna suddenly reaches over and brushes right next to his bottom lip with his thumb. Osamu freezes at the gentle touch.

“You had a grain of rice stuck,” Suna says.

“Oh. Thanks.” Osamu swallows thickly. 

The next week may be a bit more difficult than he anticipated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @TwilaWrites on Twitter


	5. The One You're Seeking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Atsumu's and Osamu's agreement is closing in. However, Atsumu faces a slight dilemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm. Hey guys. Sorry for the late update. Life has been real lately. But I hope that you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Song featured: If You Love Me For Me from Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper

There’s a problem. It’s only slight, and Atsumu has it completely under control. So really, he shouldn’t be worried about how much he’s come to like Kiyoomi at all. Atsumu can ignore the lingering glances and fleeting touches, the promises of tomorrow, the gentle direction as his nimble fingers float across ivory keys. It’s not real, he reminds himself. This doesn’t belong to him. It’s only for this moment - not permanent. That's what Atsumu tells himself every day.

Now it’s just an internal fight whether or not he takes what he can while he has the chance. Is it deceitful, tricking Kiyoomi like this? Most definitely. Atsumu is not someone who has been in many relationships, but he’s surrounded by them every day. He knows what adoration and fondness look like, and he sees it in Kiyoomi’s eyes.

So what does he do? Does he indulge in this storybook life before it all comes to an end? Kiyoomi thinks that he’s with Prince Osamu of Inarizaki. He doesn’t know that he’s really with some poor pauper. Is there even a chance that Kiyoomi would like him as he is?

Honestly, Atsumu shouldn’t even entertain that idea. Of course, he wouldn’t. He’s a _king._ He’s not going to be interested in the baker’s son. God forbid Kiyoomi ever actually find out. So Atsumu will just play his part, and if he enjoys it and indulges a bit, then that’s his secret to keep.

  
  


Osamu’s last few letters surprised Atsumu. He’s making something he calls onigiri, and apparently, everyone loves it. Atsumu almost fell over when he read how much profit he’s made in just two days. Osamu also has a theory about why the crops are failing and wants to test it out.

When the crow arrives at his window today, Atsumu collects the letter and the small glass vial it has. 

  
  


_‘Tsumu,_

_Take this down to Tsukishima in the lab and have him analyze it. I think we may have something of a problem here. I hope that I’m wrong, but I think someone may be intentionally doing something to the water supply down in the farming fields. Don’t let anyone know what you’re doing. I also fear this may be an inside job, though, I’m not sure why. Knowing you, you’ll end up spilling to someone. At least use your best judgment. Send me the results as soon as you can. Be safe._

_-’Samu_

  
  


Well, that’s concerning. Atsumu swirls the liquid inside the vial, watching it. He can’t see anything, but that doesn’t really mean there’s not something in it. No one could see the plague before it was too late, after all.

Pulling on his clothes for the day, he sets off to find the lab. He’s never been there, but he knows it’s on the lower level. It’s where the medical staff and alchemists usually are unless they venture into the library.

As he’s going down the stairs, he meets Oikawa coming up. 

“My Prince, what are you doing down here?”

“I have business with Tsukishima.”

“What kind of business? I don’t recall you ever coming down here before.”

Atsumu quickly wracks his brain for an excuse, any excuse that would seem believable. “Unofficial. It’s about Kuroo.”

Oikawa laughs loudly, echoing in the stairwell. “Ah, well, I expect nothing less than trouble from Tetsu-chan. I’ll see you at dinner, Prince Osamu.” He winks and continues up the stairs.

Atsumu sighs in relief. Something about Oikawa Tooru feels… off. Maybe it’s just because Atsumu finds the way he borderline flirts with him all the time slightly uncomfortable. But the smiles that don’t reach his eyes and his tactile nature is _weird_ , right? No one else in the palace touches him because he’s royalty, and it’s improper or whatever. Atsumu asked Osamu about it, and he said that Oikawa wasn’t like that with him. 

Then there’s the fact that he apparently took over a lot of duties after the king died, and they haven’t been redistributed. There’s something fishy going on, and Atsumu is inclined to believe Osamu’s theory about it being an inside job. Oikawa Tooru is at the top of his suspect list. Though he has no proof of anything.

He walks into the lab without so much as a knock and sees Tsukishima bent over some sort of concoction. 

“Dr. Hirugami, it’s not finished yet let me-” he turns and cuts off abruptly at Atsumu’s presence. “Your Highness, I apologize. I wasn’t expecting you down here. What can I help you with?”

“I’d like you to analyze this for me.” Atsumu takes the vial from his pocket and hands it to him. “I suspect that there’s something in it that’s making the crops fail. Don’t tell anyone about it.” 

Tsukishima inspects the clear liquid with furrowed brows. “Of course, Your Highness. This is rather concerning. I’ll begin right away.”

Atsumu nods and begins to walk away before he adds, “Oh, and if anyone should ask, I was here because Kuroo had an encounter with Lord Daishou that needed to be dealt with… domestically.” He hears Tsukishima’s snort as he exits.

He’s only been here for ten days, but he’s picked up on all the palace gossip. It pays to be observant. Some of it is absolutely exaggerated tomfoolery, but sometimes it’s useful. Like now, for example. Honestly, all the palace guards are disasters. It’s no wonder how he and Osamu were able to sneak in and out all the time. Actually, it’s quite worrying.

  
  


Atsumu is left thinking about the flaws in the palace’s security as he makes his way to his lesson today. Akaashi is another one of the people in the palace staff that completely unnerves him. His analyzing gaze makes Atsumu’s skin break out in goosebumps. Maybe he should put Akaashi on his watch list too. He’s smart enough to have some kind of scheme going on under everyone’s nose. 

“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” Akaashi greets when he enters. “Take a seat. King Kiyoomi has requested to observe today’s lesson.”

Atsumu glances around to see Kiyoomi smirking from his spot on the window sill. The way the sun shines through and leaves a casting glow on his skin makes him look like one of those grand paintings in a church. And the glimmer off his eyes? Illegal. 

“Alright, Akaashi. What are we doing today?” Atsumu hopes that he won’t make a fool out of himself with Kiyoomi here.

“Strategy.”

Fuck.

  
  


Atsumu stares at the map spread out before him. Kiyoomi and Akaashi have been watching him move the little pieces indicating troops around for the last half hour or so, neither saying a single word. Akaashi just moves the enemy’s pieces accordingly. Atsumu feels like he’s playing some kind of game, except if this was real, he’d be playing with people’s lives. 

“Why are we at war again?” Atsumu asks, stopping his movement of the wooden figure.

“It’s a revolution from the people,” Akaashi answers.

“So we’re actually preparing for this?”

“Well, with the state of-” Akaashi starts, but is quickly cut off by Atsumu.

“Instead of hiding in here like a bunch of scrubs, we should be proactive, and you know, give the people what they need before they decide to off our heads?” He huffs when there’s no response and points on the map. “The people here are practically starving to death. And the one’s here barely have a roof over their heads.” He looks up at his audience, seeing mixed expressions.

“Why do you think that? Our last report said that the area was prospering.”

Ah, shit. Atsumu shouldn’t know that. But prospering? Who the hell said that? “Uh, I know one of the soldiers that lives down there. He’s friends with Kuroo.”

Akaashi hums and furrows his brows. “I’ll have to ask Oikawa about this.” He concludes the lesson and exits, deep in contemplation.

  
  


Kiyoomi walks to him, offering his arm. “We have some time before dinner, walk with me?” Atsumu loops his arm through Kiyoomi’s without hesitation. 

Atsumu follows Kiyoomi’s lead, and it’s a bit concerning how much he’d be willing to follow him wherever it may be. With every step they take, the further he emerges himself into this fantasy with a fantastical ending, leaving his common sense behind. And here, in the gardens at the back of the palace, he can get lost in time. Time where the world is at a standstill around them, and he can exist here without it ever having an ending.

“You’re going to make a great king,” Kiyoomi says.

Atsumu’s hold on his arm tightens slightly as he stumbles. “Wh-what? You really think so?”

“I do. You obviously care about the people with how you handled your lesson today. It’s quite admirable.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Atsumu’s cheeks flush, and oh, how he wishes that those sentiments could be true. He’s not fit for a king nor to be one himself.

Kiyoomi picks a red carnation and tucks it behind Atsumu’s left ear, his fingers lingering on his flushed cheek. “You’re welcome.”

  
  
  


Dinner sits more people than usual. On occasion, some of the higher ranking royal staff will join the table. Tonight, it happens to include Aran, Akaashi, and Oikawa. So afterward, they all sit together in the parlor along with Queen Izumi. 

Kiyoomi heads for the piano and Atsumu’s heart leaps. Since he heard him play that first night, there is little that Atsumu thinks is more pleasing to the ears. The way the melody flows at the tip of his fingers lights a fire within him. 

“You know, you never did tell me if you sing,” Kiyoomi says as he starts a familiar melody.

“Ah, Your Majesty, I don’t think-” Aran tries to say, but it dies off as Atsumu begins to sing.

_“Once a lass met a lad_

_‘You’re a gentle one,’ said she_

_In my heart, I’d be glad_

_If you loved me for me”_

Atsumu knows he shouldn’t do this, but once he sees Kiyoomi smile at him like he just hung the moon and the stars in the sky, he can’t help himself. So he continues, his airy tenor carrying across the room as he walks towards the piano.

_“You say your love is true_

_And I hope that it will be”_

He’s never heard Kiyoomi’s voice either, so when he comes in with the next line, his deep baritone voice almost knocks Atsumu off his feet. 

_“I'd be sure if I knew_

_That you loved me for me”_

And oh, god, Atsumu does, doesn’t he? 

_“Could I be the one you're seeking?_

_Will I be the one you choose?_

_Can you tell my heart is speaking?_

_My eyes will give you clues”_

Would Kiyoomi pick him over Osamu if he knew the truth? Is it someone like Atsumu that he wants, rather than just a royal to marry? Can he tell that Atsumu means the words that he’s singing in every literal sense? He wants to convey this, every word. There may not be another chance, but will he even realize?

_“What you see may be deceiving_

_Truth lies underneath the skin”_

And even that rings true with them. Kiyoomi isn’t the cold person he first appeared as. Underneath it all, he’s a gentle man with a kind heart. And what about Atsumu himself? Can he dare hope that Kiyoomi would like what lies beneath this disguise?

_“Hope will blossom by believing”_

_“The heart that lies within”_

Atsumu’s heart explodes as hope blossoms in his chest. The possibility seems ridiculous, but so does the idea of identical men who aren’t related. If there’s even the slightest chance, can he believe in it?

_“I'll be yours_

_Together we shall always be as one_

_If you love me for me”_

Will that still hold true in just a few more days? Will Kiyoomi still be his? When their voices combine, Atsumu can see the notes dancing in the space around them, each taking their moment to commemorate a place in time. The harmonies swirling in his vision, colors of every tone mixing in the air.

_“Who can say where we'll go_

_(I'll be yours)_

_Who can promise what will be_

_(Together we shall always be as one)_

_But I'll stay by your side_

_If you love me for me”_

_“If you love me for me”_

As the last note rings out, he and Kiyoomi stare into each other’s eyes, lost together until clapping breaks their focus. 

“My, my, that was quite the surprise, Prince Osamu,” Oikawa says, meandering about the room. “It makes me wonder what other secrets you’re hiding from us.”

Atsumu stiffens, and he hopes it slips past the analyzing gazes set upon him by those in the room. However, Kiyoomi rises and places a hand on the small of his back, making him practically relax instantly.

“Well, I thought it was lovely, dear.” Queen Izumi’s soft smile embraces Atsumu in motherly affection. It’s… nice to have it directed at him. 

“Yes, very lovely indeed,” Akaashi adds, his face impassive.

Aran just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and Atsumu knows that they know something is up. They probably suspected earlier than this, but his sudden manifestation of musical talent is a red flag. 

So maybe he got a little caught up in the moment. But who can blame him when Kiyoomi looks at him like _that?_

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing,” he says lamely. Wow. _Great cover there, Atsumu._

“Excuse us.” Kiyoomi takes his hand and leads Atsumu out of the room. 

Their hands remain intertwined even when they reach their destination on a balcony overlooking the gardens. The sun dips low in the sky, casting the land in hues of orange. It’s stunning, probably the most beautiful sunset he’s ever witnessed.

“Osamu,” Atsumu winces internally at the name, “I’m glad that I accepted your mother’s proposal. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.” Kiyoomi turns to him and cups his jaw. “You’re passionate and honest and kind. There are just no pretenses with you.”

Atsumu leans into the touch and swallows thickly. He feels the lie eating him up inside, but the rest of it’s true. He isn’t faking everything. Every interaction he has with Kiyoomi is genuine. He’s just… not a prince. 

“Omi…” Atsumu dares to step closer and places his hands on Kiyoomi’s chest. Searching emerald eyes he says, “Ya know I mean it, right? All the time I’ve spent with ya. I-”

Kiyoomi shushes him tenderly and slinks his other arm around Atsumu’s waist. “I know.”

Then his face comes closer, and Atsumu’s breath hitches, but he’s selfish. So he closes his eyes and lets his lips meet Kiyoomi’s. He kisses Atsumu gently, but demandingly. It’s nothing like he’s ever experienced before, and Atsumu suddenly understands why kisses are described as intoxicating because he could get drunk off of Kiyoomi. 

His hands slide up to loop his arms around Kiyoomi’s neck, pressing closer. Atsumu lets himself have this moment. A moment where we can pretend that he will feel the warmth of Kiyoomi’s embrace again, wake up to it every morning, and seek it out in times of comfort. He pretends that this kiss is the first of many yet to come, that they will seal their vow with one just like this in a few days’ time.

But it’s not true.

“Osamu,” Kiyoomi whispers and kisses him again. 

It hurts.

“Osamu, I love you.”

Oh, god it hurts.

“Osamu, why are you crying? Are you okay?”

His heart cracks.

“I’m fine, Omi. I’m just so happy ‘cause I love ya too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @TwilaWrites on Twitter


	6. A Rumor in Inarizaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osamu receives troubling news, but with his stress levels, Suna insists he takes a break. Perhaps a night at the tavern is just what he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say about how late this is. It has not been proofread either, and I apologize. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this SunaOsa chapter. I like how it turned out, so I hope you do too! 💕💕

The onigiri business is thriving. Never in Osamu’s wildest dreams did he think that people would like, let alone demand, his food like this. A small quirk rests on his lips as he goes about his morning routine. While Osamu feels perfectly content at the moment, the results of the water he sent to Atsumu weighs heavily on his mind. Tsukishima works quickly, and Osamu is hoping Atsumu will have answers in his letter today. 

He doesn’t want to think the worst, but his gut instinct is usually right. Though he’s never had to deal with something quite like this before. Osamu will be back at the palace in just a few more days; he can deal with it then. 

Just a few more days… Is that really all he has left?

Osamu isn’t sure he wants to give this up, but it’s his duty as a prince. Only the Prince of Inarizaku can marry King Kiyoomi to relieve the burden of the kingdom’s debt, and that all lies on him because whether he likes it or not, he’s the Prince. It’s no one’s responsibility other than his own. 

What if he just doesn’t show up on Saturday as agreed upon? Would… Would Atsumu keep pretending? But what if someone finds out? There’s no way he wouldn’t be executed after extensive questioning on the whereabouts of the real prince. 

Biting his lip, Osamu seriously contemplates abandoning everything, but his conscience won’t let him. Fuck everything! Why is it when he’s finally happy and has found a place he wants to be, it’s ripped right from under his feet?

The sound of hooves meeting the ground releases Osamu from his gloomy thoughts. Suna has arrived. That’s a whole other problem on its own, so he shoves that away for later.

Walking outside, he gets his friend. “Good mornin’, Suna.”

“Well, it’s morning,” he says, dismounting his horse.

Osamu huffs a small chuckle as he leans against the front of the bakery. The crow should be arriving soon, then they are going to start making onigiri together. He’s not entirely sure why Suna has come to help him every morning, but he’s not complaining. No, he’s happy to have him by his side for just a little longer.

Seeing a blackbird fly in his direction, Osamu holds out his arm for it to land on and turns to Suna to untie the letter. The crow pecks at Osamu’s arm, waiting for its reward.

“Alright, alright. Sheesh.” He reaches in his apron pocket for seeds and scatters them on the ground for the pesky animal.

Taking the letter he opens it to check for news and lets out a gasp.

  
  


_ ‘Samu, _

_ I’ll get right to the point. I think I messed up yesterday evening. I sang. Your staff is suspicious. They at least know something’s not right. I’m sorry. Also, Tsukishima gave me the results this morning; that’s why this letter is a bit late. He said that there’s definitely something in it, but he’s not familiar with what the substance is. He tested it on a potted plant and it withered rather quickly. Something in this palace isn’t right, ‘Samu. Akaashi didn’t even know the slums were slums. He was told on his last report it was a prospering area. I’m worried. And then there’s my personal issues. God, it’s a mess in here (in here being my head). ‘Samu, he said he loves me, well, you. Prince Osamu, that is. I love him. But I’m not you, and you’re not me. What do I do? _

_ -‘Tsumu _

  
  


Well, fuck. 

“Everything okay?” Suna asks, wearing an expression with slightly furrowed brows.

“Actually, it’s not.”

It’s not okay - not for the kingdom, the crops, Atsumu, or Osamu.  __ It’s a good question. What do they do?

He relays the contents of the letter (sans the personal issues) to Suna, who grunts in disapproval. “Well, there’s nothing you can do about it right now. Atsumu will send a letter if something happens.” 

Osamu knows that he’s right, but it still stresses him out. Suna has to maneuver Osamu back inside by his shoulders to get him into motion. They have onigiri to prepare after all.

  
  
  


In town, Osamu hands over another order of onigiri with a smile. If only he could make everything right then and there for people, everything would be perfect. He turns when he hears a call of his- well, Atsumu’s name. 

A man with grey hair and a beauty mark under his left eye approaches him wearing a grin. “You haven’t been by the tavern lately to play. I was beginning to wonder.”

Ah, Sugawara. Osamu has been intentionally avoiding the tavern for his two weeks as Miya Atsumu for this exact reason. “I’ve been busy with this new onigiri thing.”

“So I’ve heard.” Sugawara’s eyes crinkle. “You should take a break and come by tonight!”

“Umm, actually I-”

“Sounds like a plan,” Suna cuts him off, suddenly appearing out of nowhere, and slings an arm around Osamu’s shoulders. “He’s been working himself too hard.”

“Then I’ll see you boys tonight!” Sugawara says before sauntering away.

Osamu whips his head around to gape at Suna. “They’re going to make me play!”

“Relax. Just say you’re too tired to. Have a few drinks and have a good time.” Suna gives his shoulder a squeeze and releases him. 

Perhaps he’s right. There’s not much he can do about anything right now. He doesn’t have any leads on who could be tainting the water supply nor does he have a way to fix it yet. He’ll just have to trust that Atsumu is doing what he can to manage it. Besides, Osamu deserves to let loose a little during his last days of freedom. 

  
  
  


Unsurprisingly, Osamu has never been inside a tavern before. It’s lively but not quite as noisy as he was expecting. The warm and inviting atmosphere draws him in, and he smiles and returns the greetings of other patrons. He sighs in relief when he sees a music duo performing already. Looks like today was the perfect day to come after all.

When Suna and he step up to the bar, Osamu has no idea what to order. It’s not that he’s a total stranger to alcohol, but at the palace, it’s mainly fine wines and other imported goods. He’ll just get whatever Suna does. 

Turning to Suna he says, “Get whatever ya want. It’s on me.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow but orders them both an ale. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just to thank ya for all yer help. I don’t know what I woulda done without ya.”

Suna’s face takes on a slightly pink tint that can’t be blamed on the alcohol that’s just been placed in front of them. “I’m sure you would’ve managed just fine without me.”

“Probably, but either way, I’m glad ya were with me.”

“I’m glad you both made it tonight!” Sugawara says, coming up to them. “Sorry, Atsumu, but we have a bard duo here tonight.”

Osamu waves him off. “Eh, it’s fine. My throat’s a bit sore anyway.”

  
  


One drink turns into two and two into three. The sound of a lute and flute flow through the tavern and mix beautifully with Suna’s laugh. His eyes are squeezed shut and his head is tilted down as he laughs over something Osamu can’t even remember. His mind has been wiped clean of anything other than the picture of Suna in this moment. 

When Suna looks up at him with his flushed cheeks and grin, Osamu stands and says, “Dance with me.”

Suna blinks at him incredulously. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“I’ll teach ya.” Osamu offers his hand with a cheeky smile, watching as Suna stares at it before grinning back and latching their hands together. 

No one else is dancing, so they gain a few curious looks as they begin. Osamu may be tone-deaf and have no talent for instruments, but he is a proficient dancer. It’s just fancy footwork, not completely unlike a duel. He’ll start with a saltarello; it’s a lively dance. 

They stand side by side with Suna’s hand on Osamu’s as they step forward with a hop kick, hop kick. Suna watches each movement as he follows along with the forward chasse then a step kick and step kick out followed by a back chasse. They raise their joined hands, and Osamu twirls beneath and nods for Suna to go next.

He laughs when Suna stumbles slightly during his spin. Osamu is pretty sure it’s not the alcohol. Neither of them are drunk. They’re only a bit intoxicated, though he never took Suna as a clumsy person.

After repeating their hop kicks, Osamu motions for Suna to pause as he steps in larger high-kicks in a circle around him. Linking hands again, they repeat only to have Suna circle this time. Joining their free hands together, they hop kick in a circle before switching directions.

By this time, other people have decided to join in as well. The spritely melody brings with it laughter and cheers as everyone repeats the steps. Osamu remembers learning this dance but not once has it ever been this fun. He and Suna turn their heads to each other, smiling. No, it’s only like this because he’s here in a small tavern, free from any royal duties hanging over his head, and he’s with Suna.

As the song ends, some patrons settle back down. Others, however, remain up for the next song. Though when a slower tune begins playing, Osamu hesitates. He glances at Suna’s figure draped in the lighting provided by the sconces’ flames, and his heart lurches. If he has to marry a king from a foreign land, by god, he’s going to dance a ballad with Suna Rintarou. 

Without saying a word, Osamu raises his left hand to the side with his arm bent at the elbow and his other arm behind his back. Suna scans him up then down with his eyes before stepping close to mirror him. Their palms press together, and their thumbs hook around the other’s hand. They slowly walk in a circle, eyes never straying apart even as they switch hands and directions.

Turning their bodies towards each other, their free hands raise up to join together above their heads. Suna catches on quickly as they begin a box step dance sequence and smoothly takes over to lead. 

Osamu has never been the one to follow in a dance, but he finds it has an appeal and spins under their arms as they return to their original positions. Then as the music swells, Osamu is lifted into the air before being gently dipped. His eyes widen a fraction, looking into the piercing hazel that’s so close their noses touch. 

Osamu has heard of fairy tales. He’s read of the fantastical adventures and ferocious beasts, and he’s read of love. As a royal, he knows better than anyone that fairy tales aren’t real. He knows that no dashing prince is going to sweep him off his feet or save him from the highest tower. There is no such thing as true love’s first kiss. However, if this is what it feels like to dance on the fence separating love and hesitation, he’ll gladly fall. In fact, he already has - right into Suna Rintarou’s arms.

Suna twirls Osamu twice more before bringing them into another step sequence. Wrapping an arm around Suna’s shoulder, Osamu is ready when Suna winds an arm around his waist for another lift. Each of them reaches out with their right hands to cradle the other’s face, continuing to step in time with the beat. 

_ So this is love, huh? _

Hazel eyes gleam with unspoken emotions, making Osamu’s stomach swirl and heart pound. Maybe it’s Suna who is the dashing prince between the two of them. Can he save Osamu from an arranged marriage?

As the song comes to an end, they’re closer than they once were, completely wrapped in their own world. With their foreheads pressed together, even the bards starting another upbeat song can’t distract them.

Pulling back slightly, Suna whispers, “Osamu, I-” 

He’s interrupted as he stumbles from being roughly bumped into. Osamu steadies him as they both glare at the two men making their way out of the tavern. A flash of turquoise catches Osamu’s eye, but he doesn’t think much of it.

Sugawara stands close by with his hands on his hips, frowning at the door the two men disappeared through. 

“You know them?” Suna asks.

“No. I don’t. I don’t think they’re from Inarizaki, and that makes what I heard even more worrying.” 

Osamu is alert immediately, but maybe they’re just from Itachiyama. “What didja hear?”

Sugawara’s brown eyes shift to them with worry simmering at the surface. “I didn’t catch everything, but they were talking about kidnapping Prince Osamu.” Both Suna and Osamu stiffen. “I hope that it’s just drunken talk, but I still worry. He’s supposed to get married on Saturday, you know? Itachiyama is a rich kingdom. I suppose they would pay a heavy ransom to have him safely returned if the King of Itachiyama loves him.”

“Ah, thanks Suga, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. I think I’m going to walk Atsumu home, he’s feeling a bit woozy.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Goodnight!” 

The two try to remain casual as they leave the tavern, but as soon as they exit, they whip their heads around trying to spot the two men. They aren’t from here, and most likely they aren’t from Itachiyama either. Their colors are black and gold, not turquoise. 

“Suna, ‘Tsumu might actually be in danger.” He turns to Suna with frantic eyes. “I need to go back to warn him.”

“I’ll take you. We can ride Hina.” 

  
  
  


Riding through Inarizaki in the dead of night while clinging onto the man he loves should be romantic. The sky is clear, so he can see every bright star. Suna’s broad back is warm, and Osamu wants to drown in his scent. However, fate is cruel. So cruel, in fact, that it’s cutting their time together short. 

So this is really it. These are his last moments with Suna Rintarou, a man he’ll never see again no matter how much he loves him. Osamu’s eyes sting with the unshed tears he holds back. Now isn’t the time to weep; he has to be strong right now. He’s the Prince of Inarizaki, after all. 

Osamu directs him to the part of the wall that he uses to get in and out of the palace grounds, and then they’re stopped. Suna dismounts and offers a hand to help, which he takes more out of the want to touch Suna than out of necessity. 

Suna doesn’t let go and squeezes his hand tighter. “If everything’s fine you’ll come back, right? I’ll wait here and-”

“Rin,” he cuts him off, saying his given name for the first time. It shouldn’t be like this. It’s not fair. They had a little more time. “Ya know I can’t. It’ll be ‘Tsumu comin’ out. Not me.”

Suna turns away and presses a clenched fist to his forehead. He grits his teeth and scrunches his eyes closed. Osamu wants to soothe him, but he’s not sure how. 

“I know you’re the Prince of Inarizaki, and I  _ know _ that it’s your duty to marry this king for the good of the kingdom. But fuck-” he turns to Osamu and holds him by his upper arms. “I love you. I fucking love you, and I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want you to go. I can’t stand the thought of never seeing you again - never hearing your laugh, never seeing your throw rice over your shoulder like it’s nothing, never making onigiri with you, never holding you like I want to, never kissing you...”

Osamu stares with his mouth slightly agape. His heart may beat straight out of his chest. “So kiss me.”

Suna’s breath stutters, but he regains control quickly. Then a hand cradles the back of his head, and an arm wraps around his waist. Suna pulls him in and crashes their lips together completely unrestrained.

Osamu knots his hands in Suna’s shirt and tries to keep up with the frantic kiss. It’s desperate, messy even, as they try to convey everything that they feel. Suna nudges him back until he’s pressed against the stone wall, still kissing him. 

When they pull back for a moment with their chest heaving, they just stare into each other’s eyes. Suna cradles his face with both hands and strokes his cheeks with his thumbs. He wants to be selfish; he wants to stay here with Suna. But-

“I have to go.”

Suna’s shoulders slump. “I know.” Removing a hand, he digs in his pocket for something. Then he’s holding up a silver ring between his thumb and forefinger. Osamu recognizes it from that day at the market. “I bought this for you. I planned on giving it to you tonight actually. I don’t know. I guess I hoped that you’d feel the same way.”

“I do, Rin. I do feel the same way.”

“But you still have to go, don’t you?”

Osamu nods and offers his left hand. “I’ll always think of you though.”

Suna takes his hand and shakily slides the ring onto his ring finger. Gently taking Suna’s head in his hands, he places a kiss on his forehead. “I love you too, Rintarou.”

The once clear sky is shrouded with dark clouds, blocking out even the moonlight. A roll of thunder ripples through the air as he feels the first drops of rain. 

Suna pulls him into one last embrace before he helps Osamu up the wall. Sitting on top of for the last time, Osamu looks down at his love, his freedom, his happiness. Suna’s glassy eyes burn with the same pain Osamu feels. He wishes it didn’t have to be this way. Taking one last look, he soaks in every feature before he scales down the wall.

Landing on the palace grounds acts like a trigger for the skies to open up and pour down buckets. Fighting his way through the rain, he makes it to the servant’s quarters entrance. 

Sneaking through the palace halls, he makes it to his chambers with concerning ease. He didn’t see a single palace guard. The feeling in the pit of his stomach churns in unease. 

Inside, there doesn’t appear to be anything out of place, except there’s no prince sound asleep in bed. Instead, there is a note left on the neatly made bed. With trembling hands, he picks it up and lights a candle to read it, still in his drenched clothes.

There’s no way he’s too late. They left right after those guys. They took a horse! That’s not what this is.

He breaks the wax seal and unfolds the parchment. Osamu’s blood runs cold as he reads. Opening a drawer in his desk, he shoves the letter in and closes it. Slumping against it, he gasps for air. 

Atsumu has been kidnapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that these dances were easy to follow. Translating it into words is harder than I thought it would be. Much respect to those that do it so beautifully. 
> 
> @TwilaWrites on Twitter

**Author's Note:**

> @TwilaWrites on Twitter


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